


hayat saeida

by SetStar (Valeks_princess)



Series: The Mummy Drabbles [3]
Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001), The Mummy Series
Genre: Massage, Multi, Smut, ardeth dreams, badass evie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 19:32:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeks_princess/pseuds/SetStar
Summary: The triad of almunaqadh relax into camp life. Evie gets some weapons training. Oh, and smut occurs ;)





	hayat saeida

In the rush of their return to camp, the press of their bodies against each other, the shift in their dynamic as smooth as the Nile current tugging them under, Ardeth had been thoroughly distracted, and almost completely forgotten his promise to train Evelyn in combat, but she hadn’t. She stood there, removed from the crush of tribespeople who flocked their returned future leader, arms folded across her chest, steely eyes staring down the Medjai until he could no longer bare the crawling sensation gnawing at the nape of his neck, and excused himself to confront her.

 

* * *

 

Rick looked up at the canopy above his head, the barrier of cloth and goat hide keeping the interior of Ardeth’s tent sheltered from the elements. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but, except for the furnishings and personal belongings, the future leader’s tent was barely different from the one that had been allocated for his and Evie’s use. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was how all outsiders who were extended hospitality by the tribe were treated, or if it was just because of how Ardeth viewed the two of them, but he thought he knew. The American settled back into the bedroll, tangle of woven linen folds scraping against his bare skin.

 

Distantly they could hear the muted roar of the tribe’s conversation, voices raised in jubilation over the crackle of the flames. Evie giggled into Rick’s chest, hair drawn back and his arm around her bare shoulders, nightgown tickling her thighs. The man laughed, and outstretched his other arm to the watching Medjai.

“Come on, we’re not gonna bite”

“Unless you ask _very_ nicely”. Ardeth laughed, mirth erupting from deep within at the words said in that posh, British voice, shadowed face creasing into a brilliant smile, whites of his teeth standing out in stark contrast to his mocha skin. Rick couldn’t keep an answering grin from his face as the warrior turned, slipping his open robes off his shoulders, letting them pool around his feet as he approached the duo, naked but for the chord and amuet about his neck, skin darkened with tattoos. Rick ached with the sudden need to caress the Medjai’s skin, to put his lips to the tattoos marking the other man’s body– and then he realised that he could, and again was struck by amazement at the situation the three of them found themselves in.

 

Ardeth joined them in his bed, settled against Rick’s chest, one hand working its way inside Evie’s braid, the trio drifting off to sleep tangled up in each other.

 

* * *

 

The sun beat down upon Anhotep, searing the dusty landscape and stone fort alike, seeking to broil the commander where he rested, protected in the shade of the outpost, his eyes trained on the deserted riverbank on the other side of the garrison walls.

The sentry turned and saw Raneb approaching across the rampart, coming to lounge against the mud-brick wall as if he wasn’t on duty. Anhotep felt an old stirring of irritation at the man’s attitude, but the time when the two were not yet friends had long past, and Raneb had proven himself a competent and dedicated warrior, one Anhotep would gladly have by his side. A grin broke out across the elder man’s face and he reached out a hand help his friend into the shade, caramel skin meeting as the two clasped forearms, shoulders pressing against each other. The feeling that stirred within him at the sight of the other man was familiar, and Anhotep felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“Looks a scorcher out there today” the soldier noted, speaking a language long since dead, joining his commander gazing across to the parched desert just beyond the fertile banks of the Nile. Anhotep nodded, glad that he was not out there in Set’s realm. “Still, beats standing around here all day, what I wouldn’t give to be out hunting right now– running down antelope, barbary, hell what I wouldn’t give for a chance at an ostrich”. Raneb looked so wistful that Anhotep couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to clasp his friend’s shoulder.

“My friend, I prefer the Thomson”. He said, thinking of the fast-moving fleet-footed gazelle that was his favourite prey, that required both a deft hand with a chariot over rocky terrain and good aim to bring down.

A figure in the distance caught their attention, and the two brothers-in-arms watched as a woman phased into view, emerging from the haze of heat and distance. Both recognised her instantly– the Viceroy’s sister, Ebiere; and both sets of eyes followed the woman’s form as she approached the side gate, sheer linen dress swaying in the warm breeze...

 

Ardeth startled, breath coming a rapid pant as he jarred awake, heart slamming against his ribs. It took him far longer than usual to drag his mind back to the present, unsettled feeling persisting long after his heart-rate returned to normal, and he oriented himself in the camp, amongst his tribe. Disturbed, Ardeth settled back between the sleeping bodies of his lovers, resigning himself to a restless night, haunted by a past he did not remember.

 

* * *

 

Ardeth woke from a shallow sleep to the feeling of Rick’s hands on his skin, Evelyn’s lithe form on top of him, his own body pinned between them. He moaned as Rick’s lips found the back of his shoulder, mouthing at him, Evelyn gripping his hips roughly as she lowered herself down onto him, heated gaze boring into his soul. He cried out, for a moment seeing Ebiere’s face overlaying Evie’s, and then Rick was rutting against him, hands roving across Ardeth’s skin, and he lost himself in the moment. He thrust up into Evie, shuddering as she clenched around him. She was loose, pliable, obviously softened while he still slept. Oh Allah; the thought lodged in his chest, the image of Rick bent over Evie, of his mouth and fingers working her open, preparing her for him while he lay there, unseeing, oblivious–

He grabbed her, arched up to bring his lips to her skin, murmuring Arabic into her flesh as he kissed up her stomach, beard scraping against sensitive skin. Their lungs heaved in unison, Rick’s nails biting into him as Ardeth rolled his hips. Evelyn tossed her head backward, hair spilling over her bare shoulders, her groan joined the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh as they writhed together, moving as one. Ardeth bit his lip, cutting off the desperate keen trying to slip between clenched teeth. He tossed his head, dark curls falling around his face. Evelyn reached out to tangle her fingers in his hair, tugging on the loose strands in a way that had him moaning, shaking apart between the two of them.

 

“I still- want you to- you said you’d- oh god” Evelyn panted, quivering.

“I know,” Ardeth grunted, forearms shaking as his hands gripped her, nails digging into her smooth skin. “Later”.

 

* * *

 

Day had well and truly broken by the time the trio emerged from Ardeth’s tent, to the amusement of the warriors and elders alike. The future chief blushed but Rick nudged their shoulders together and the embarrassment dissipated. The two foreigners were his _dire shaqiq, his,_ and it was his pleasure to partake in them, to sate themselves together. Hard packed dirt scorched underfoot as the trio passed through the camp, stirrings on trepidation and unease awash beneath the steely determination coalescing into a pit in Evie’s stomach.

The group of assembled warriors snickered amongst themselves, snippets of soft conversation drifting out across the training grounds as the crowd watched the future chief take to the practice ring to instruct the foreign woman, the _zaeim_ ’s shield-brother, whose mother had been of the fourth tribe but who had distanced herself from the life of a Tamajaq after she’d wed a British man. Watched as the apparent novice moved with a skill she should not possess. Hushed murmuring passed between the watching women observing the British _munaqadh_ , assessing her.

 

Rick took Evie’s hands in his, eyes solemn as he regarded her. He had taught her the basis of barehand self-defence but had never touched on bladed weapons, had no more than a bare bones understanding of the sword himself, and he trusted Ardeth, he truly did, but– but nothing, Rick decided, firmly taking a step backwards off the clear swathe of sand. Ardeth took his place, taking Evie’s hands in his and caressing her palms with his fingers, studying them. He passed her a yatagan scimitar, closed her grip around it, and stepped back. Evie looked down at the sword she was holding. She lacked the tell-tale callouses, and it was clear to all that her hands were unused to clutching at a weapon-grip, yet the weight of the blade in her hand felt familiar. She swung it experimentally, feeling uncomfortable. Was she really doing this? She _must_ be insane, there was no way– and then Ardeth was moving, motion fluid as he advanced, black robes swirling about him, sword slowly arcing down towards her, flashing in the sun's glare. She shrieked even though she knew he would pull his blade, would never hurt her– and yet her body was moving, slipping under his guard, sword up to deflect his, lashing out with a sweeping kick that sent the unprepared warrior crashing into the sand. She dropped the blade, hand flying to her mouth, utterly shocked. From the sidelines Rick burst out laughing, the warrior Tamajaq that had gathered to watch hollering in amusement. Ardeth got back to his feet, grinning, and rushed her. She scurried back from his first two strikes, suddenly wishing she had kept hold of the sword. And then he was upon her, taking the strike to the gut as she lashed out, sweeping her knees out from under her, following her down to the sand and pinning her lithe form beneath his own muscular body.  
  
The Medjai had no qualms about trapping her beneath him, laughing throatily as she struggled ineffectually, sand clinging to her braided hair, body writhing deliciously against the sacred warrior’s lean frame. He swallowed reflexively, and pulled himself off her, reaching out to help her to her feet, pulse racing. He tossed the sword back to her, grinning as she deftly caught it, gasping in surprise, pink mouth parted with surprise as she stared, disbelieving, down at the weapon in her grip.

 

“Again”.

 

* * *

 

The sun was low in the sky by the time Evie finally left the practice sands, the assembly of female Medjai having crowded around, future leader graciously retreating to join Rick by the sidelines as the women absorbed Evie into their ranks, accepting her as one of their own. The russet tones of the dying phoenix sun descending to meet the burnt desert sand fanned out behind her, crowning her frayed braid with the molten gold of sunset. Rick’s heart stuttered in his chest as he watched the woman approach, seemingly lit up in echo of the shining brilliance within, his lips twitching up into a smile. Ardeth took a step forward to greet her, placing a feather-light kiss on her cheek while Rick hung back, awkwardly taking a moment to adjust himself within his breeches, brown jodhpurs digging uncomfortably far into his groin. He grinned self-deprecating, the things this woman did to him– the sight of her twirling that damn sword, fierce and wonderful in all the right ways– he huffed, suppressing a wince as the unforgiving seams berated him again. Maybe Ardeth had the right idea with those robes and all.  

 

* * *

 

The tent flap rippled, dawn light chasing Ardeth inside, loose fabric of his gallibaya swirling about his ankles. Evie winced as she stirred, dull ache rising to the fore of her awareness as she woke, biting off a whimper as she shifted, taking in the interior of the tent. She can’t have overslept long, not if Ardeth was just returning from prayers. The camp would be up and bustling soon, and she had thought to go and fetch water with the other women of the tribe. It didn’t sit well with her, being set apart from them, spending all her time with Ardeth and Rick as if she was the Medjai’s kept woman, not contributing to the life of the camp she was now part of. It rankled, and Evelyn was determined to make herself useful.

“Sore?” Rick asked from beside her, on his side, leaning on an elbow, small fission of concern creasing his brow despite the clearly amused glint to his smile. She nodded, nose crinkling. Ardeth just laughed, brilliant flash of his pale teeth standing out in stark contrast to his dark skin, highlighted by the thin shift he wore in place of his usual layers of dark robes.

“Go on,” the Medjai said, extending a hand to help her to her feet, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Return to us later”.

 

* * *

 

Evie groaned as Rick’s firm hands dug into her taut flesh, circling and kneading along her back, working through layers tightly coiled muscle. The stiff tension had only been exacerbated by carrying the water, and now she was aching all over, melting under Rick’s solid presence as he worked steadily to loosen the strain knotted down her upper back and shoulders. His calloused fingers kissed her smooth skin, sending shivers down her spine, awareness torn between the delicious action of his palms on her skin and his weight astride her derrière, her naked front pressed into the cloth of Ardeth’s bedding. The bedroll dipped as the Medjai joined them, imposing presence flowing around her like honey, thick and syrupy, dark magnetism making her shudder. His hands joined Rick’s on her skin, flesh tingling like the currents of the Nile were singing electricity in her veins. The mood inside the tent shifted as Ardeth lifted Evie until she was sitting on her haunches, back to Rick’s nakedness. Ardeth settled himself kneeling in front of her, legs spread, pressing himself against Evie’s naked body, the woman’s pulse racing as her breath caught in her throat. Being sandwiched between the two men she loved sparked off a heady mix of exhilaration and lust, desperation soon muddying her blood as her head fell back, eyelids fluttering, torn between pressing herself against Rick or Ardeth. But aside from definite identical looks of amusement the two men showed no interest in the woman between them, moving against her as if she was there incidentally, as if an afterthought. Every time Rick’s hard torso pressed up against her she quivered, shuddered whenever her pert nipples scraped Ardeth’s hirsute chest, arousal surging at every ‘accidental’ brush against one of her erogenous zones. The three _almunaqadh_ were entwined, Evie cocooned between Rick and Ardeth, the two of them working each other around her, pressing in close either side, tangled together, wedging her between them, hands on her skin. Evie keened, craving each touch that sent her spiralling, _hating_ them in this moment for every smirking denial as Ardeth’s hands bracketed her, reaching around her to work Rick’s cock, ‘incidentally’ grinding against her. The woman panted, lost in a fog of lust, tipping her head back onto Rick’s shoulder, wild hair spilling down his back as she forcefully gripped Ardeth, pulling him forward until he slid into her, breath catching as she moaned at the intrusion. The Medjai laughed, and leaned forward to kiss Rick, the movement driving himself further inside her. He made no move to acknowledge her as she clenched around him, hands working across Rick’s skin. Evie’s blood boiled, incensed at the desire bubbling in her veins, angry at how arousing she found their apparent disregard! She’d show them, Evelyn was not a woman easily overwhelmed. But as she worked herself on Ardeth’s cock, delighted by every crack in the man’s stoic facade, Rick surged forward, hands gripping Ardeth’s back, forcibly spearing her down onto him, his own cock rubbing against her just right, rocking to a motion that set her pulse hitching, climax surging within her. They didn't stop when she came, and Evelyn conceded that maybe she wouldn't be winning this one after all, and maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.


End file.
